5.11.2013

Swimming Into the Spotlight.

Yellow
Umbrella, or Yellah Umbrellah as many Richmonders call it, has
been serving up choice seafood in Richmond's West End since my whole
life (they opened in 1975). I only learned about the place a few
years ago but it quickly became my The Go-To for extraordinary –
and sustainably harvested - fresh fish (when I was in town, of
course). I also always had to grab some of their remarkable prepared
cheese grits right before checking out. Random, right? Not in the
South.

This
past February they moved. Across the street. You can throw a rock,
it's so close. But now they are way bigger and even better. I imagine
much to Belmont Butchery's chagrin, they now boast a nose-to-tail,
butcher shop with humanely-raised meat. Even better, they offer
'cellar-to-table' wines and cheeses, seasonal produce, artisanal
breads and homemade prepared foods.

On
their website they claim
to have 'fanatical and quality service', and I'm here to tell you it
is absolutely true. A week or so ago, whilst my dad, Fred and I began
planning a dinner party for six people, their intrepid Travis endured
twenty-four hours and a myriad of phone calls from yours truly.
During one return call I mistook Travis for my friend, Spencer, and
squealed familiarly; during another, Travis thought I called him
'honey' – I'm pretty sure I didn't, but one never knows. I for sure
knew I wanted whole fish. They expected whole Rockfish, Red Snapper
and Branzino delivered the next day and did not know the exact specs
of the fish. Why?

Because
someone had to go catch the fish.

So,
my new BFF, Travis, called me first thing the next morning with the
option of fifteen pounds and over thirty inches of Rockfish. That was
definitely the option I desired most but I was quickly reminded that
cooking something of that size would be impossible. There was no way
it would fit in the oven or the grill. Parade rained on, I settled
for four large Branzino and about six pounds of mussels. And a huge
chunk of those cheese grits. They scaled and gutted the fish right
there in front of us in the store, and even asked if we wanted heads and tails on
– which we did.

We
cooked everything that night. Dad was on fish duty, Fred took the
Mussel patrol, and I was assigned 'the sides' (I made a delicate
salad of frisée, lightly dressed with finishing oil, lemon and salt,
and roasted sunchokes with a buttery bagna cauda). The mussels were
so plump, briny and rich – and the Branzino – which we roasted
whole, was bracingly fresh, simple and exquisite.

Back
in LA and doing some grocery shopping yesterday, I poked around the
fish counter to check out my options. They had whole Branzino, but
even to say that it paled in comparison would be weak. Paz had a
memorable Yellah Umbrellah story to share: she bought a whole Red
Snapper from them once and named her fish Carl. I recall her sending
me a picture of Carl. This was probably about four years ago and she
still waxes on about Carl, the most beautiful, freshest fish she had
ever seen and eaten. Ask her about him, I'm serious.

The
crew at Yellow Umbrella Provisions are doing something singular and noteworthy.
I honestly think their product is unparalleled and the people behind
it are equally so. I just don't understand why they are still in the
best-kept-secret category.

DIRECTIONSHeat the
oil in the bottom of a large pot until hot. Add the shallot, garlic,
lemon grass and chile. Cook over medium heat until soft, about 3
minutes. Add the coconut milk and mussels. Cover with a tight-fitting
lid and cook until the mussels have opened, 5 to 7 minutes (discard
any mussels that remained closed). Remove from heat, and use a
slotted spoon to transfer the mussels to a large bowl, leaving the
liquid in the pot. Stir the lemon zest and juice, fish sauce and
cilantro into the pot. Taste and add more fish sauce and/or lemon
juice if needed (fish sauce provides the salt).

Scoop the mussels into a large serving bowl. Pour the remaining sauce on
top. Finish with a generous sprinkling of fresh cilantro. Add lemon or
lime wedges on the side.